


Lost and Found

by seersucker



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alpha!Keith, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bondage, Friends to Lovers, Galra!Keith, Heats, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Masturbation, Mates, Omega!Lance, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Sadism, Threesome - M/M/M, Vibrators, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!Lotor, altean!lance, mostly Lance POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-06-14 07:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15383742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seersucker/pseuds/seersucker
Summary: Lance is the first omega of noble birth in centuries, and his arranged marriage with the powerful alpha Prince Lotor is going to save Altea from the Galra Wars. But Lance doesn't quite know what he's getting into - the Galra, and Lotor especially, are renowned for their cruelty, and as the submissive, omega mate of Prince Lotor, Lance is helpless to speak up. But will everything change when he gets closer to the Galran sentry, Keith, who guards him day and night? Or will their relationship doom them both?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, in case you didn't see the archive warnings, TW: Rape/non-con and dub-con are explicitly described in this fic. This is a smut fic, and has always been intended to be a smut fic, but I just stumbled on some actual plot along the way. Enjoy, and feel free to skip the smut for the plot or skip the plot for the smut, should make sense either way. Enjoy!

Lance walked through the throne room, his stomach twisting in a mixture of nerves and excitement. His whole life lately felt like it had led up to this day – a lifetime of lessons and tutoring and preparing to be a good omega, to please his alpha, to make a good marriage alliance through the mating bond. As a royal prince of Altea, it was his duty to serve his kingdom. Or that was what his father had always said, at least.

“Hello,” he said cheerfully to the servants who were preparing the hall. They smiled and waved back at him, busy at work setting up tables and decorations. Today was his Bidding.

The Bidding was a tradition that stretched back millennia, back when omegas were still common. But omegas had been considered obsolete for centuries. That was why Lance was so special. When he had presented a year ago, it had been galaxy-wide news. Altea had been abuzz. He had been the topic of every conversation, with quiet covetous stares and curious glances following him everywhere he went. So now, on his Bidding, those of royal blood from planets across every near star system would be visiting Altea. For him.

It made him shiver a little, all the attention. Allura had always gotten the spotlight. She was smart, brave, and beautiful: the perfect alpha heir to the Altean throne. Their father, King Alfor, always said he didn’t have favorites, but deep down Lance knew it was Allura. That was okay. Allura was Lance’s favorite, too. Plus, she looked just like their late mother, whom their father deeply missed. Lance felt a little pang at the thought of her. He wished she had gotten to see this day, when he finally proved his worth to the kingdom.

Lance was just passing by one of the council chambers that resided just off the throne room when he heard voices. Curious, he crept closer.

“What? So we just sell him? He’s not some broodmare!”

“Don’t be crass, Allura. This is an ancient tradition.”

Lance could recognize his father and sister’s voice – arguing. About him? About his Bidding?

“Ancient? Antiquated, you mean,” Allura said. Lance could almost see her crossing her arms.

“It won’t be like an auction, per se.” Their father’s voice was frustrated. “Much more civil than that. The suitors will each have a private meeting with me at some point during the party, so they can’t try to publicly one-up each other. They will each have a case prepared to present and they will do their best to convince me that they are the best match for Lance and our kingdom.”

“But Lance gets no say,” Allura insisted, her voice hurt. “Even omegas deserve rights.”

“Omegas have no rights!” Alfor snapped, making Lance jump a little at the raise in tone. “That is the system put in place, and you will deal with it. You should be thankful your brother’s marriage is making an alliance so you don’t have to do the same.”

Allura was silent, and Lance frowned. He didn’t want them to fight over him. He appreciated Allura’s support – she had always been on his side, siblings against the world – but their father’s word was law. He was the king.

“Mother would not have wanted–“ Allura started, but she stopped cold.

“Do not bring your mother into this,” Alfor’s voice was low and angry. “Our grip on the galaxy has been fading ever since her death, Allura. We need a new alliance. And this party, the Bidding –“ he nearly spat out the word, “ –is going to have some of the most powerful people in this corner of the universe here, negotiating with me. It’s possible we can make more than one ally tonight. I hope you can get over your sentiment and realize your duty to your home.”

Footsteps sounded toward the door Lance was hiding behind, and he pressed himself against the wall as his father strode angrily out of the room, hoping he wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping. A moment later, Allura followed him out the door and walked in the opposite direction.

Lance wanted to stop her and say something to ease her conscience, to say he would be fine, that it would all turn out alright, but something in her face made him hold his tongue and let her pass. It was his fault for snooping on their conversation, and he would bear its burden. He didn’t want to make her feel guiltier than she already did.

Hours later, Lance was dressed up in the most beautiful thing he’d ever worn and was surrounded by sparkling lights and clinking glasses of nunvil and champagne (it was luck of the draw which one you happened to grab, really). The throne room was beautifully decorated in twinkling lights and soft gossamer wall hangings, all set to match the flowing teal robes Lance wore. The garment floated around him, so light it hardly felt like fabric at all, inset with gems so small they seemed like specks of glitter. His wore a delicate golden circlet and a carved golden arm band for the occasion. He knew he looked amazing – each suitor was eyeing him in a way that made him feel warm and tingly. Or maybe that was the champagne.

So far, his Bidding was going so well Lance could almost forget about what came after. He had chatted amiably with nearly all the attendants, entertaining the guests with his charm and bright smiles. Allura had smiled at him approvingly, and so Lance knew he wasn’t just imagining his effect.

He had just stopped for a breather in a darkened alcove at the side of the throne room when he heard someone say his name.

“Prince Lance,” the voice said, low and smooth and cultured. “A pleasure.”

Lance looked up to see someone right in front of him – someone who made his mouth go dry. The reigning Galra prince. Prince Lotor. He had been tutored on all his suitors, both male and female, but this one had stood out. Lotor’s father, Zarkon, had been best friends with Alfor once before betraying him and going to war with Altea. They had been battling the Galra ever since. Every Altean child heard horror stories about the Galra, about their cruel practices and violent natures, and here was their prince, looking for Lance’s hand in marriage.

“Hi,” he squeaked out. Lotor just smiled, as if he knew exactly what Lance thought of him and didn’t really mind it. “Um, how are you? I hope you’re enjoying the party so far?” Lance tried to plaster on a smile.

“Oh yes,” Lotor said. “I quite enjoyed the chat I had with your father. He seems a…reasonable man.”

“Um. Yes, yes he is. Reasonable. Very reasonable.” Lance knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t help himself. Something about Lotor’s height, his yellow eyes, those canines…they set off a fight or flight response in Lance that he couldn’t quite control.

Lotor seemed to enjoy Lance’s discomfort. “I hear you’re quite the social butterfly. Glimmering underneath all these lights, using all your charisma. An omega that knows how to entertain.” He hummed a little under his breath.

Lotor was standing entirely too close, much more close than what was proper between an unmated omega and alpha in public, due to the confining walls of the alcove. He leaned above Lance, caging him in with his body, blocking his view of the party. He reached up a hand and slowly stroked the hollow of Lance’s throat with his thumb, claw dragging ever-so-slightly over the skin. Lance shuddered, not quite able to stop the response.

“I wonder,” Lotor said, pressing his thumb down just enough that he could feel Lance’s pulse thrumming like wild bird wings, “How good you are at the other duties required of an omega.”

Lance’s breath was getting shorter and shallower as he panicked, feeling like a trapped animal pinned beneath Lotor’s gaze, when someone cried his name. “Lance! There you are!”

Lance breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Allura marching toward them, a look of fury flashing across her face as she saw Lotor. Lotor had snatched his hand away and was looking for all the world like they had just been having a polite conversation.

“Come with me, Lance,” Allura said, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the alcove as she shot a glare at Lotor. “The announcement is about to be made.”

“Honored guests,” came Alfor’s booming voice from the raised dais upon which the thrones sat. He stayed away from the fourth throne, the one covered in dust, as if by keeping a distance he could forget about it. Allura led Lance up the dais to stand next to their father – Allura at his right hand, Lance at his left. His cheeks heated as he felt the gaze of hundreds upon him.

“You have gathered here today to witness something extraordinary, the continuation of the Honorable Bidding.” Lance tuned out as his father talked about legacy and tradition, scanning the crowd as he wondered which would be his future mate. Would he ever get to see Altea again after he left?

“And now, dear friends, it is time for the announcement of a future mating bond, a future marriage, and a future alliance that will inspire years of peace between two great kingdoms.” The crowd hushed and seemed to lean in. Lance waited, holding his breath. “My son, Prince Lance, the first omega of noble birth in millennia, will have the honor of marrying….Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire.”

The world stilled around Lance as he felt his future settle into place around him. It had never felt more like shackles. Dimly, he could hear applause, punctuated by pointed glares and muttering directed at Lotor, who was leaned against the wall near the alcove, grinning smugly. He bowed his head several times, accepting the congratulations other guests directed at him. Lance directed a glance at Allura to see she was staring at their father, shocked and speechless, the blood drained out of her face and her mouth set in a hard line. King Alfor did not look at either of them.

The king continued with some final closing words that Lance didn’t hear, and the crowd began to filter out until only Lotor remained. Servants began to filter into the throne room, gathering discarded glasses and soiled tablecloths, erasing the evidence of the Bidding. Woodenly, Lance followed his father and sister off the dais as they approached Lotor. He couldn’t trust himself not to burst into tears if he opened his mouth to speak.

Lotor shook his father’s hand and kissed Allura’s, still playing the part of the grateful suitor. Allura looked disgusted, but Alfor maintained a cool exterior as they began to discuss logistics. It was determined that Lance would leave the following night, with one day to say his goodbyes and gather his things. Then he would leave with Lotor on a ship bound for the Galra Empire, possibly to never see his family or his home again. He could feel all the excitement of the Bidding drain out of him, and now he felt so tired he could sleep for years. He just wanted to lay in bed and forget this had ever happened.

Lotor gave him one last lingering glance as he stalked out of the throne room toward the quarters that had been prepared for him.

“Father –“ Allura started as soon as he had left, but Alfor just raised a hand to silence her. With one last sad look at the fourth throne on the dais, he just shook his head and followed Lotor out of the room. Allura looked as if she might cry.

She said some things to him that were supposed to be comforting, but Lance couldn’t really hear her. It was as if the world around him had been muffled, like he was underwater and could only observe what was happening to him. He just nodded along until she finally stopped speaking, pressed her lips together, and hugged him tightly. He raised his arms to hug her back, sinking into the warmth of the embrace before she pulled away. With one last searching look into his eyes, she left too, and Lance was finally left alone with his thoughts and his future.

**...**

The convoy ship was spacious and luxurious, not full of hard angles and edges like most ships were. Blankets and plush cushions were draped everywhere, filling the relatively small room Lance sat in to make it look like it had been decorated as a palace. It was a prince’s ship, for sure. Lance shivered as he gingerly sat down on one of the cushions, his luggage beside him.

“Are you cold, my pet?” A voice greeted him sensually from the doorway. Lotor. His new alpha.

Lance could hardly trust himself to speak. His hands were shaking slightly from nerves, butterflies flitting in his stomach. He had never left home before. “A bit, yeah,” he replied softly.

Lotor strode into the room, pushing a button on a command console Lance couldn’t see. “There.”

The room immediately heated, warming to a pleasant but not stifling temperature.

Lance couldn’t hold his questions back any longer. “What are you going to do with me?”

Lotor stopped, his eyebrows drawing together. “Has nobody told you how this works?”

Lance blushed and said, “I know you bought me because you’re an alpha, and I’m an omega. I know our marriage will be an alliance. But I don’t…nobody’s ever taught me…what it means to be a mate. How it works.” Another wave of his anxiety rose in his throat, but he pushed it down as he waited for Lotor to answer the question.

One day had not been long enough to prepare. He had hardly woken up when he had started packing, rushing to say goodbye to the servants and the children he’d grown up with and his tutors, and finally his family. Alfor had been curt but more affectionate than he’d ever been with Lance, hugging him and telling him they would see each other soon. Allura’s hug was longer and sweeter, and she was crying as she had watched him board the ship.

Lotor just looked at him, a slight grin showing on his face that displayed his elongated canines. Lance shivered again. “You mean your father and your sister never taught you how to please a mate? I’m not surprised. Alteans are such prudes.” Lotor moved around behind Lance and leaned down to whisper in his ear. His long white hair spilled across Lance’s shoulders, and his breath was warm and ticklish on his neck. “Do you know what sex is?”

Lance nodded mutely. The other castle children had talked about it in hushed tones, giggling and blushing, all betas and alphas that would be able to marry for love.

“The mating bond is solidified during sex. The sex between alphas and omegas is especially potent, and so the mating bond is all the stronger for it. That’s why you’re so special, Lance.”

A little thrill ran up Lance’s spine when Lotor said his name, along with apprehension. He had always been scared of the idea of…intimacy. “But I thought mates had to love each other too, for the bond to even appear in the first place,” he said, his voice a little higher pitched than usual. He couldn’t lie to himself – Lotor scared him. But before he had left, Lance had promised himself to try to make the best of the situation. If this was his life, he didn’t want it to be self-imposed misery.

“Usually,” Lotor agreed, moving back around Lance as he walked toward the doorway. “But this is a special case. You’re the only omega of noble birth for ten thousand years. And I bought you. So now you’re my pet, and you will soon be my mate. And our alliance will be sealed.” And with that promise and a dark glint in his eyes, Lotor swished out the doorway and out of sight.

**...**

Lotor’s palatial ship was softly lit, with classical music playing softly from hidden speakers in the corridors. Lush rugs and furniture covered the surface of the ship, showing a taste for comfort and luxury. Lance could tell as he was led through a long hallway that there would be a lot to explore later – he had hardly seen a fraction of his new home.

His new home. The words felt foreign and strange. Just yesterday, he had been preparing for his Bidding, rushing around like the social butterfly he had always been, not really thinking about the implications of the coming event. Now, the reality that surrounded him felt cold and unfamiliar. He hoped he would get used to it soon.

The Galra sentry leading him to his quarters was close-lipped and quiet, answering Lance’s furtive questions with curt and direct answers. After what seemed like a lifetime, they arrived at a door with an ornate handle. The sentry bowed and gestured at the door, which Lance took as his cue to open it.

He gasped. The inside was decadently decorated in the blues and yellows of his home country, with juniberries spilling over in vases across the sitting room. From this area, he could see two other doors, likely leading to other areas of the suite.

“Do you like them? I thought they might help you feel more like yourself,” Lotor said, stepping into the room.

Lance nodded quickly, his throat tight. “Yes. Thank you.” A slight pang of homesickness hit him, but he pushed it down. This – Lotor, the Galra Empire – was his home now. That would be his duty as a mate and a husband.

“Our marriage is in a few months. These kinds of events take a while to plan. I hope you don’t mind,” Lotor said, moving closer to Lance, watching him carefully.

“No, I understand,” he replied. Party planning, celebrations, those were things Lance could understand. He wanted his wedding to be perfect, with his father and Allura and all of Altea in attendance.

“So you understand, then, that we must be mated immediately.”

Lance’s heart stuttered to a stop. “What? Why?” He squeaked out.

“Because,” Lotor said, prowling closer to Lance, “if the alliance cannot be sealed with the public ceremony yet, it must be sealed in nature. You must be made mine as soon as possible, so no other Galra can try to take you away.”

Lance shuddered and nodded reluctantly. He had heard stories of royal kidnappings, of omegas long ago who waited too long and were stolen away. Although he supposed he had also been stolen, in a way. He shook his head, trying to banish the thought. No. His father had agreed to this, encouraged this. It was Lance’s duty.

Suddenly Lotor’s hand was on Lance’s upper arm, claws digging in just enough to be uncomfortable, steering him toward one of the doors in the suite, and then they were in the bedroom. The bed in the center of the room was huge and canopied with rich hangings. Lance only caught a glimpse of a bathing room in the next room over before Lotor threw him onto the bed.

Another thrill shot through Lance at Lotor’s pure strength. He had complete control over Lance. Lance would not be able to overpower him. There was fear there, too, but he tried to ignore it. This was normal for mates. He had to do this. For duty. For Altea.

“Take off your clothes.” Lotor’s voice was pure command, sending a dreadful heat up Lance’s spine. “All of them.”

Lance complied, as quickly as he could, shivering a little when his garments were off. This time, the temperature in the room was perfectly moderate, but Lance felt exposed. Lotor’s gaze raked up and down his body, and Lance moved his hands to cover himself up. Lotor’s eyes narrowed, and he began to strip as well.

Lance’s mouth went dry at the sight of Lotor naked. He had never seen another man naked, not even among the other palace children and his friends. Nudity was forbidden in Altean culture. But Lotor seemed to revel in Lance looking at his body. He was lean and muscular, all toned and smooth purple skin which was at contrast with his shocking white hair and slitted yellow eyes. And lower….Lance hesitantly looked, although he was embarrassed to, and he could feel his whole body stiffening with apprehension.

Lotor’s member hung huge and heavy between his thighs, slightly redder than the rest of his skin. Pure alpha. Already, it was beginning to twitch and stiffen as Lotor drank in the omega in front of him. The pheromones Lotor was putting off hung in the air, turning into a musk that Lance’s body was starting to respond to, whether he was ready or not.

“I don’t…know what to do,” Lance said hesitantly, swallowing.

“I’ll teach you,” Lotor said, and his voice was dark and rough and Lance could feel his own cock starting to stir, fear and desire mingling equally in him.

Lotor moved forward, toward the bed, and brushed a thumb across Lance’s cheek. He hadn’t realized it, but he had been crying. Lotor collected the tear and put his thumb in his mouth, licking the salty liquid off in one smooth stroke.

Lotor started off gentle, pressing kisses to Lance’s chin and cheeks and lips as if he knew Lance would break down if he went any rougher. Lance could feel his restraint, could feel the barely contained raw power he was holding back behind each movement, and went compliant beneath him. Lotor pressed a long kiss against Lance’s sealed lips, his tongue flicking out, asking for permission. Lance understood that signal, at least, and opened the seam of his mouth to let Lotor’s tongue in.

As Lotor kissed him, his tongue exploring Lance’s mouth, his hands were running up and down Lance’s body, leaving goosebumps wherever they trailed. When they brushed over Lance’s hardening nipples, he groaned against Lotor’s mouth and Lotor responded, pinching and twisting the sensitive bits of flesh. Lance arched into the alpha as Lotor’s hands circled their way lower and lower, finally gasping when he felt his cock grabbed and encircled by a cage of fingers and claws.

Lotor twisted and tugged Lance’s cock at the same time as a particularly fierce kiss and a nip on Lance’s lip that drew blood, and Lance let out a breathy moan.

“Please, Lotor. Please, want to make you feel good. Want to be a good mate.”

“Lance,” Lotor half-groaned into Lance’s mouth. He stopped for a moment, his gaze dark and stormy, and looked directly into Lance’s eyes. “You may only call me Master from here on. You are not permitted to use my name. You are an omega, and must behave as such.”

“Yes, Master,” Lance said, flushing, but quickly forgot about his shame as Lotor’s lips reclaimed his. Before long, Lotor was pulling off of him. Lance looked at him, confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Come here,” Lotor said, his voice rough and animalistic as he kneeled on the bed in front of Lance. Lance was forced to crawl over him on his hands and knees, his cock half-hard and hanging below him.

He drew level with Lotor’s cock and looked up at the alpha, waiting for instruction. Then Lotor fisted a hand in Lance’s hair, taking him by surprise, and forced his mouth down onto his cock. Lance forgot how to breathe for a moment as Lotor’s cock kept filling and filling his mouth. It was salty and soft and smooth all at once, and Lance struggled to breathe and keep it in his mouth at the same time, unable to move due to Lotor’s grip on his hair, keeping his head down. Then Lotor started to push Lance’s head back and forth, and a moan rose from the back of his throat as Lance used his tongue, laving the surface of Lotor’s cock with each motion, licking up and down the shaft, hands cupping the alpha’s balls. He quickly realized he must have no gag reflex, because any cock as big as Lotor’s should have had him choking, but he just kept sucking, breathing in the heady scent of pheromones, trying to pleasure Lotor. He had to be a good mate.

Seconds later, Lotor pulled Lance off him with a pop, clutching a hand in his hair so he could admire the drool hanging from Lance’s chin. Lance moved to wipe it off, but Lotor’s other hand captured his arm and held it in place. Lance’s own cock was hard and aching by this point, his body reacting to Lotor’s scent and the sheer dominance of being used, dripping precum. He could feel his hole getting wet, too, preparing itself.

Lotor threw him back on the bed so Lance was facing the canopies, and soon his vision was full of Lotor as he settled between Lance’s thighs, his cock even bigger than before, curved and throbbing over his stomach. Lance’s gut clenched at the thought of being penetrated by that, and he spoke up.

“L – I mean, Master, please, be gentle, prepare me –“ But his words were  cut off by his own garbled scream as Lotor sheathed himself inside Lance in one swift, tearing movement. Lance felt as if he was being split open, rent apart by Lotor’s massive cock, which was currently parallel to Lance’s spine. He panted, unable to say anything other than half-voiced moans, and Lotor slowly pulled out of Lance’s tight, wet hole, drawing another scream out of him, before slamming into him again, and again, and again. It set up an erratic pulse, a rhythm Lance couldn’t get used to as Lotor pounded into his prostate over and over, his cock so huge and so deep inside Lance that Lance could see it in his stomach when he looked down.

“F – Fuck, Master, fuck me, ah,  _ ah _ ,” Lance said over and over again, words melding with dribbling moans as Lotor drilled him relentlessly, so uneven that Lance couldn’t get used to the sensation, each time feeling like the first. Lotor was hilt-deep in him, his balls slapping against Lance’s bare skin each time he entered and re-entered Lance’s hole, fucking him into the soft bed. Lance’s fingers scrabbled at the sheets as Lotor’s breaths grew more ragged and his moans more frequent. He reached down to touch himself, to grab his cock, for sweet friction and release for his throbbing, aching member, but as soon as his hand reached down, Lotor paused just long enough to grab Lance’s hands.

“Only I get to touch my things,” Lotor growled as he caged both of Lance’s wrists in one hands and stretched his arms above his head, pinning him to the bed. Lance was unable to move, unable to touch himself as Lotor leaned over him and continued to thrust into him so hard it brought tears to Lance’s eyes. He could do nothing but lay there and take it, his mind going fuzzy as Lotor adjusted them for a new and even deeper angle.

Lance’s cock was so hard it was painful, and it curved desperately over his belly as Lotor ravaged him from above, Lance’s legs hooked over Lotor’s shoulders. Lotor’s eyes were dark and ravenous at the sight of Lance’s suffering cock, and he groaned out, “Be a good omega, Lance, come for your alpha. Want you powerless as you come.”

And with a shout, Lance came, spurting more liquid than he ever had before by himself all over his stomach, and Lotor bared his teeth in something that resembled a grin. Lance trembled and mewled piteously at the oversensitivity as Lotor fucked him through his orgasm, pounding his prostate mercilessly as Lance’s cock sputtered and softened. Lance blacked out for a moment from the overstimulation, but quickly woke up a few moments later to Lotor sucking at a spot in his neck just over a vein and above his collarbone.

If it was possible, it felt like Lotor was growing inside Lance, his base expanding and growing even wider than before into what Lance would later learn was an alpha’s knot. Lotor’s knot stretched Lance so much he was sure he was bleeding, sure he had torn in two, but Lotor continued to fuck into Lance as he grew, until suddenly he was coming and coming inside of Lance and he was biting at the spot he had been sucking, drawing blood as hot liquid flooded Lance so much he felt he could burst, Lotor’s teeth fastened over Lance’s lifeline, marking him, claiming him, mating him.

“You’re mine,” Lotor grunted into Lance’s neck, repeating it over and over, and for a moment Lance was so drowned in sensation that he felt like he was inhabiting both his mind and Lotor’s, feeling what it felt like to be both full of cock and what he felt like around Lotor’s cock, their minds melting together into one pure, electrifying feeling.  _ This is the mating bond _ , was the only thing Lance could think as the moment dragged on for what seemed like a forever of sensations. Lotor’s knot was still buried in Lance, his cock stretched along inside Lance’s abdomen, filling him more than Lance would have ever thought possible, as he continued to bite and suck at the same spot on Lance’s neck. Lance moaned as Lotor’s cock continued to spill out fluid – so much cum he felt he might throw it up, the knot keeping it all plugged in.

Finally, the knot began to de-swell, and Lotor slipped out of Lance with an obscene, slippery noise. Lance could feel some of the cum leaking out of him, but most of it was still inside him and his hole clenched painfully around thin air at the loss of Lotor’s cock. He whined, his cock already starting to harden again, feeling almost sad at the loss of being so submissive, so completely out of control. He was back in his own mind again, that moment of shared sensation over, but he could feel heat where Lotor had bitten him on his neck. That mark felt warmer somehow, like it was tethered to Lotor.

“That’s enough for tonight, pet,” Lotor said, swirling an absent finger through the cum pooled on Lance’s abdomen. “I need to have a security council with my sentries now that I’ve returned to my ship. I need to keep my pet safe.”

Lance went still at the protective dominance in that tone. His body wanted more, if his cock was any indication, but he knew better than to openly question an alpha. “Yes, Master,” he said meekly, ignoring the part of him that wanted to thrash and fight back, the part of him that was still screaming in trapped fear, chanting  _ wrong, wrong, wrong _ .

“But…” Lotor said thoughtfully, looking at Lance splayed compliant before him, “now that we have our mating bond, we can communicate nonverbally. Convey feelings. Sensations.” His mouth curled into a smile. “So, in theory, we could do…this.”

Lance gasped at the sensation of fingers wrapped around his cock and pushing inside of him at the same time, squirming around the feeling, pushing against the fingers but – Lotor hadn’t moved. His hands were folded in front of him, but Lance could  _ feel _ his fingers doing things. How -? And then Lotor’s words clicked into place. The mating bond - that had settled into place when Lotor bit him and came in him at the same time. It was amazing how real the sensation felt, and just because Lotor had thought it – he breathed in sharply as the grasp on his cock tightened, pulling faster, the fingers inside him scissoring more and more, jerking in and out in a ragged pattern that hit his prostate each time – and then he came again, spilling all over his stomach for the second time.

There was a dark satisfaction in Lotor’s half-lidded eyes as he viewed Lance, exhausted and covered in cum, with one more cursory glance before standing up and dressing.

“Sleep well, pet,” he said sensually, caressing Lance’s cheek before leaving the room, letting Lance lie on the bed, not moving. So much had happened so quickly…and now he was mated. A mated omega, the first in millennia. And he belonged to Prince Lotor, for better or for worse.


	2. First Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance meets Keith. Lance goes into his first heat.

Lance woke to light streaming through the high windows of his bedroom. Distantly, he realized that they must have landed on a Galra outpost planet, and its star system was the source of the light. He couldn’t really focus on the position of the ship, though, because when he sat up all the leftover sensations of the night came flooding back. His whole abdomen area throbbed slowly, the pain sharpest where Lotor had abused his hole over and over. At the time, it had felt so good, but the pain he'd been able to ignore then was catching up to him now. Lance’s arms seemed to scream in protest when he stretched them, his wrists aching where Lotor had pinned them down, and he was still filthy, cum splattered across his stomach and covering his bottom and the sheets beneath him. It had dried enough to feel sticky on his skin, and Lance shuddered at the sensation and the reminder of what had happened.

He had given himself up so completely to Lotor, it hadn't really felt like him. The thought that Lotor’s proximity had that effect on him was frightening. But Lotor was his mate now. He had to remember that. He belonged to Lotor now. The thought was upsetting - he had always been free on Altea, even as a royal - but that didn't matter now. His father’s words echoed in his head.  _ Omegas have no rights. _ He was just going to have to get used to that. 

Slowly, wincing at the soreness in his muscles, Lance got up from bed and padded softly to the adjoining bathroom. It was beautiful and spacious, all white stone and big countertops. Once, the pink juniberries in their vase on the counter would have made him smile. Now the sight of them just made him sad. Lotor didn't seem like the type of alpha who would let their mate - an inaugural omega of royal blood, no less - leave for another planet, even if only temporarily. 

The central focus of the bathroom was clearly the massive tub sunk into the middle of the floor. It was so large it could have been called a pool in another place, and there were many faucets and buttons that looked like each performed a different function. As he walked over it, Lance caught a glimpse of himself in the wide mirror. His hair was disheveled, dark bags hung below his eyes, and there were bruises on his hips, his wrists and thighs and arms, all places where Lotor had gripped him. Lance prodded one if the bruises. It twinged slightly, but it didn't hurt too badly. That was good. 

Finally, Lance’s gaze fell upon the dark mark in the hollow where his throat met his shoulders. Fascinated, Lance ran his fingers over it slowly. It was warm to the touch, and his pulse thrummed as he studied it. Each mark of the mating bond manifested differently depending on the mated couple it belonged to. When one member of the pair was marked, a twin mark would appear on their mate in the same spot. It was tangible proof of the bond, and through it the connection between a couple was established. Lance’s was still unformed, but he could make out the beginnings of a shape in it. It looked almost like two curves entertwined, but it was hard to distinguish. It would still take a while for the mark to fully manifest.

Turning away from his reflection, Lance studied the bath tub for a moment before turning on one of the biggest faucets. Water, hot and pure, rushed out and before long, the pool was full. Lance groaned as he stepped in and the hot water enveloped his aching limbs, soothing the hurt. He could stay here forever, he decided. This tub, with its warm water and quiet peace, was all he needed.

Surely, Lotor had princely duties to attend to, and that was why he had left before Lance woke up. As much as Lance was unsure of his feelings toward Lotor so far, some primal part of him wanted Lotor here with him. He wanted someone to spend time with, someone to soothe him and feather kisses on his bruises and to love him. That was what he really wanted: love. It was what he had hoped - was still hoping- to find in his mate. 

Soon enough, Lance’s fingers were pruning and the water was starting to cool, so he got out of the tub and towelled off. To his surprise, he found a closet in the bedroom that was larger than anything he'd ever had on Altea, and that was saying something. It was full of garment after garment, more than he could ever think of wearing, all in different hues and vibrant colors. All were flowing, gauzy, and revealing. The clothes of an omega, he supposed. Finally he settled on one of the more modest options: billowing navy pants that cinched at the ankle and the waist, and a matching loose navy top that left his arms and navel bare. He wanted to go exploring. This was his new home, after all, and if his chambers were any indication, it was huge. 

Lance walked through the suite and paused just outside the door. This was his home. He shouldn't be nervous. He swung the door open and stepped into the long hallway, heart beating a little faster. Just outside the door stood a Galra sentry, and Lance stopped short.

“Hello,” he said curiously. The sentry jerked, as if startled, and turned to face him. He didn't look like other sentries Lance has seen - he had dark black hair that was long on the end and curled on the edges, his skin was a pale purple, and he had a friendly face that was currently closed off. His purple eyes, though were unmistakably Galran.

The sentry bowed his head to Lance. “Hello, Your Highness,” he said. His voice was lower than Lance expected, but smooth and level. If he saw Lance’s bruises, he didn't acknowledge them. “I am the guard on duty to protect you today. My name is Keith. How may I assist you?”

“I want to go exploring,” Lance said, trying to keep his voice bright despite the cramps that were now roiling through his stomach. Was he really that afraid of the Galra? Keith seemed nice enough. 

“I am afraid you cannot go exploring,” Keith said sympathetically. “For your safety, Prince Lotor has decreed that you should not wander unaccompanied. He has many enemies.”

For a moment, Lance’s heart fell, his throat closing in at the idea of being trapped, but it quickly rose again. “Then you can come with me!” He said lightly to Keith, whose eyebrows furrowed at the suggestion. “Plus, I need someone to show me around.”

“I’m not sure -” Keith began, but he quickly interrupted himself with a curse as Lance strode down the hallway. 

This was not Lance’s first time being told he couldn't do things for his own safety. As soon as he had presented, his world had narrowed to the Castle of Lions, not allowed to venture into Altea beyond it for fear that some alpha would scent him and try to steal him. He had Allura then, though, and she had argued on his behalf to sway their father to a more lenient position. This time, Lance would have to fend for himself.

Keith wasn't very talkative, but he answered Lance’s many questions about the ship, the planet they were docked on, where Lotor was, what Keith’s own heritage was (half-Galra and half-human, now  _ that _ was interesting), and how peace negotiations were going with Altea. Lance was proud to hear that the last was well, since he had been instrumental in them. His people would prosper from an end to the Galra Wars.

Keith showed him the throne room, the council chambers, even the mess hall and barracks the soldiers used. Wherever they passed, sentries and officers and citizens bowed their heads to him. Lance was a little embarrassed at all the attention he was getting - not as a prince, as an omega mated to a prince - and his skin flushed and prickled with the weight of their stares. Even when they were gone from prying eyes, Lance’s skin stayed hot and tingly. It itched, as if something was crawling under his skin, and the cramps were getting worse. By the time they had climbed a flight of stairs, he was out of breath and leaning on a wall for support, his arms and legs suddenly very weak and shaky. 

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked him, concern plain in his eyes. “Your Highness, are you alright?”

“Please,” Lance said weakly, waving a hand with what little strength he could manage, feeling his legs buckling beneath him, “The name’s Lance.” And then his legs gave out. Dimly, Lance could feel someone scooping him into their arms and calling out for help, something about retrieving the prince and telling him his mate was sick, being carried through the palace quickly and into a familiar room before being laid on a soft bed. He squirmed, his discomfort heightening with each roll of heat down his body, his skin awash in tingles and sweat. Suddenly, his clothes were too hot and he was yanking them off as fast as he could, laying naked and feverish on the bed. 

Lance groaned as the heat sharpened into something more like arousal, and he could feel something warm and wet trickle down his thighs. It was his hole, he realized through the fog, his hole was wet and slick, clenching and unclenching. His cock was hard, and Lance reached down and grasped his cock in one hand, sliding two fingers into himself at the same time. He gasped at the sudden intrusion, but it felt so good that he began to move on his fingers, adding a third as he pulled on his cock. He wanted more, needed more, needed something inside him - and suddenly there was a voice, growling, “Wait in the other room,” and cool hands were on his wrists, pulling them above his head. Lance whined at the sudden loss of feeling, fluid gushing out of him faster now, and his half-open eyes could see Lotor leaning over him, a ravenous look on his face.

“Your first heat. I was wondering when this would happen,” he said. Lance’s brain could only half-process the sentence, and he just let out another low whine.

“Please,” Lance panted. “Please master, need you to fuck me, need your cock filling me, please, please-”

“You look like such a whore, begging for it right now,” Lotor said, his voice pitched low. “Are you a whore, you naughty, naughty omega? You belong to me. Tell me how much you want your alpha’s cock.”

“Please,” Lance gasped again, a moan building in his throat. He had never needed anything like he needed this. “Want you to fuck me, use me, fill me, please Master, I’m yours, I’m yours-”

And with that, Lotor groaned and plunged into him without warning, filling Lance so completely, the fit so deep and good that Lance could do nothing but release his moan, gasping for breath.

The stretch was better than usual, since Lance’s fingers had already done some of the work, but Lance’s head was still cloudy with pain as Lotor pounded into him again and again. It felt better than last night though, as if his body was practically begging to be used. He could feel the wide head of Lotor’s cock drag across his prostate with every savage thrust, and Lance moaned brokenly as he gave himself over to the sensations. 

Lotor drilled into him hilt-deep, his heavy balls slapping Lance’s skin obscenely, and it was all Lance could do to let his vision go black with pleasure as he was coming. He spilled fluid from both his dick and the hole Lotor was so relentlessly filling, and the doubled orgasm was so intense Lance screamed wordlessly, forgetting even his own name. As the aftershocks of his orgasm subsided, Lotor continued to fuck him mercilessly, and the overstimulation made Lance half-sob with pleasure. 

Finally, Lanc could feel his hole distending wider as Lotor’s knot grew, and Lance’s cock was hard again as Lotor bulged so impossibly large inside him that he was sure he would burst, continuing to fuck into Lance until  the very last moment, when Lotor slammed deep into him and Lance rutted against him, cock sputtering again, and Lotor flooded him with cum as he bit down hard on the spot of the mating bond. Lance screamed again, his head so overcome that he couldn't make any more coherent sound as he felt the mating bond warm and pulse as Lotor’s teeth closed into it.

Lance didn't feel so sick now, but his skin was still too hot and his head was still hazy. His hole ached, still full of cum and Lotor, and he moved closer to Lotor to embrace him, kissing him languorously. Lotor was stiff at first, his knot throbbing waves of heat through Lance, but he eventually softened into the kiss, his tongue flicking against the seam of Lance’s mouth. But then, as Lotor’s knot softened and shrank, Lotor pulled out of Lance and broke away from the kiss. Irrationally, tears came to Lance’s eyes. Why didn't his mate want to spend time with him? He whined piteously, and Lotor just chuckled as he robed himself at the foot of the bed. 

“Sleep, pet,” Lotor said, not unkindly. “You’ll need your strength for the coming fortnight.”

The mating bond warmed, and Lance found himself obeying the order. As he drifted off to sleep, though, he heard voices coming from the other room.

“Is he alright?” One voice inquired. It was kind, uncertain.

“He will be,” the other, more commanding, answered. “He is an omega, and this is his first heat. The mating bond brings it on, as a way of ensuring conception of a child. He will need constant care and attention, especially for his more carnal desires. As you know, these are greatly heightened by heats.”

“Yes,” the other voice replied, then paused. “I am sorry for any perceived interference I may have caused -”

“No,” the commanding voice said. “Do not apologize. I am quite impressed with your self control. You are an alpha, yes? And you carried an omega in heat all the way across the ship, and stayed with him while he was presenting and helpless to the heat’s urges, and you did not lay a hand on him when you could have.”

“It was only my duty, Your Grace -” 

“Maybe so. But I am a prince and cannot be with him through his whole heat. I will need you to stay with him, exercising the same control you did today. I will need you to feed him and bathe him and make sure he sleeps, since he will be unable to care for himself in this period. And I will need you to satisfy him, when I am not there. I will leave you instructions.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.” The voice was faltering and anxious. Soon after, the only thing Lance could hear was silence, and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

**…**

Lance woke up slowly, his face warm, his body aching. Sunlight streamed in through the window - that was the source of the warmth - and his bedroom was quiet. It was an effort to open his eyes, almost as if they had been glued shut in the aftermath of what had happened. God, what had happened? He remembered exploring with Keith, remembered sinking against a wall, doubled over by cramps and weak legs...and then he had been in his room, and Lotor had taken him, and there had been that conversation...he shook his head as if to clear it. Everything was hazy, slightly distorted, and as he opened his eyes the room swam. 

The cramps hadn’t gone away - there was still a low-level throbbing deep in his abdomen that he could ignore if he made sure not to focus on it - and he still felt overly warm, his head still a little light, but it seemed his body had calmed from whatever wanton sickness had rushed over him the night before. His first heat, Lotor had said to Keith. And - Lance’s stomach turned. The conception of a child. That’s what the heat after the mating bond was for. Was he - was he going to have a child? He wasn’t sure if he was ready for it, had never really considered the possibility, but oh God, wouldn’t he be expected to provide an heir - 

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice from the corner of his room said. The voice was slightly husky and deep, familiar, and Lance turned his head toward it to see Keith sitting in a chair in the corner of his bedroom. He looked as if he, too, had just woken up, and he was rubbing blearily at his eyes. 

Lance tried to get up, raising his limbs, but he couldn’t move - why couldn’t he move - and he was tugging at his arms, his legs, but there were padded shackles around his wrists and ankles, tied to the corners of the bed, and he was naked under the thin sheet, spread-eagle, trapped -

“Please don’t panic!” Keith cried out, getting up and stretching a hand out to Lance, eyes wide, as Lance frantically tugged at his bonds. 

“Why-” was all Lance could choke out, struggling to remain still and clench back against the rising fear in his throat.

“Your mate requested you be confined like this,” Keith said, apology in his voice. Lance heaved in deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “Your heat could flare up at any moment and it’s the only way to keep you from hurting yourself.”

Lance sucked in another breath of soothing, blessedly cool air as he gathered the strength to speak. “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting…”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t explain before you fell asleep.” And at the question in Lance’s eyes, Keith explained, “His Grace has left me, and only me, in charge of you for the next fortnight or until your heat ends. There is a different rotating guard posted outside your door, but His Grace has deemed me suitable to look after you in the time being. He said I have considerable self-control.”

Although his voice was confident, Lance could see the shadows of doubt in Keith’s eyes. He wanted to make them go away. 

“It’ll be alright,” Lance said, with as much cheerfulness as he could muster in his present situation. “Am I….Am I going to be chained like this the whole time? What will we do to entertain ourselves?”

He had hoped Keith would smile a little at that, but his face was impassive. “With all due respect, Your Highness, you must be chained during this process, as your mate ordered. It’s a new experience for everyone involved, and it can be dangerous. It’s for your own good.”

Something inside Lance sank at that, but he tried to force it down. “Lance,” he said.

Keith’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I told you, before...you know...to call me Lance. Your Highness is too...stuffy. And if we’re going to be spending a whole fortnight together, I want to be comfortable.”

It was a slight jab at the shackles, but Keith ignored it. “I’m not sure His Grace the prince will appreciate the lack of propriety.” He slightly avoided Lance’s eyes when he said it.

“Just when it’s the two of us, then,” Lance said with a forced smile, keeping his voice light. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Keith paused, then gave a quick bob of his head. “Very well then, Y - Lance.”

Lance couldn’t help the small flush of warmth that ran through him at that. It had only been a few days since he had left Altea, but it felt like it had been weeks since anyone had said his name with such warm familiarity, such kindness.

Then his stomach growled, quite noisily. When was the last time he had eaten? Yesterday midday, at least. Keith rose quickly at the sound, ignoring Lance’s embarrassment. “I’ll go fetch some food.”

Lance waited a minute, hearing Keith rustling around in the main room, and then he re-emerged, holding a tray of delicacies. Soft, warm bread, some strange fruit he’d never seen before...it was all new, but Lance was so hungry he didn’t even wonder at the types of food that was so different from the standard space goo consumed on the streets of Altea when trade was low due to the Galra Wars. 

Keith’s face suddenly filled his vision as he hovered over him, his brows furrowed as he stared down at Lance. “I’m going to feed you,” Keith said.

A jolt shot through Lance, shame and something else sharp-edged and hot. He had forgotten, for a moment, that he was truly helpless in these chains. He was quickly starting to hate his heat. Slowly, carefully, Keith spooned some warm soup down  Lance’s throat, and Lance couldn’t quite help the moan that escaped him at the feel of the savory warm liquid soothing his dry throat. 

Each bite was like that, the food maybe so good because Lance was so hungry, and slowly but surely Keith fed Lance until all the food was gone. A high flush remained in Lance’s cheeks after staring into Keith’s violet eyes for so long, and as Keith left to return the tray to the other room, Lance could feel the symptoms of his heat growing again. Cramps worsening, skin tingling and heating, and finally a dreadfully potent wave of arousal that obscured all his senses.

Something dark and sharp-eyed inside of Lance purred in approval when Keith returned to the room to see the thin sheet stretched tautly over Lance’s fully stiff and aching cock, a small spot of wetness at its apex already, as Lance panted and twisted around under the sheet, seeking any kind of friction. Through half-lidded eyes, Lance could see that Keith’s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were so pale they were almost white, and his eyes were wide. 

“I was hoping I could explain how we were going to take care of this beforehand,” Keith muttered, Lance only half-moaning in response, “but it looks like I waited too long.”

Lance’s need increased with each passing moment, each slide of the sheet on his cock a releasing and a worsening, his hole widening and gaping, wanting to be filled. His arms strained against the shackles, trying to touch himself in any way, but even their slackness didn’t let his hands near enough. 

His groans more frequent now as the arousal sharpened into something painful, Lance heard Keith fumbling around with something, but didn’t think to ask before gasping at the sudden removal of the sheet. Keith’s throat bobbed above him, his nostrils flaring as he scented Lance’s desperation, but he kept his movements swift and controlled as he fastened something around Lance’s cock and then shoving something inside Lance’s hole.

Lance gasped, rolling his hips, trying to get used to the sudden feeling, his throat shouting his moans now as the thing inside him started vibrating, shaking and stretching him and rubbing against his prostate, and then that thing around his cock started pulling, vise-like, moving up and down until he felt like he was going to pass out from the pleasure. 

Lance’s eyes were fully closed now as he writhed along the full length of the vibrator, his ring of muscles clenched tightly around it, and the thing around his cock pulled and pulled, and all Lance could think of was that there was an alpha in the room  _ right now _ who could be helping him get off, why wasn’t Keith touching him, oh God - and Lance couldn’t tell if he was just thinking the words or speaking them out loud as heat and pleasure shuddered down his body over and over, giving himself entirely over to the sensation and pull of the heat. 

Lance’s moans neared a scream as the vibration and the speed of the thing pulling his cock reached a crescendo, and as his release shattered through him, Keith’s name was on his lips. Cum spurted onto Lance’s stomach once again, thick white ropy strings of it, while his hole clenched further around the toy and he came there too, entirely broken by the time his orgasm was finished. 

Like the last time, Lance felt exhaustion slipping over him as he finished, sleep reaching swiftly from the far reaches of his mind to reclaim him, and Lance hardly saw the outline of Keith hovering over him as he slipped into blackness. 

**…**

A few days and similar episodes later, Lance woke up to the feeling of his arms aching, which was nothing new. The stretched position he was in had started to send twinges of pain down his spine, and it was uncomfortable not being able to move freely for a long period of time. Ever since that first time Keith had helped him through the heat-induced sex fog (as Lance had taken to calling it), Keith had remained more removed than ever, even while helping Lance reach completion each time the arousal started to take over again. Even as he fed Lance delicious food, wiped him down gently with wet cloths in lieu of bathing, and held his head over a bucket each time the heat made him vomit, Keith felt distant, his violet eyes far-away, as if they were hiding something. Was it something Lance had said? His memories of the sex fog were always a little fuzzy, but had he really said Keith’s name as he orgasmed? If he had, it was crossing a line. Lotor was his mate, and as nice as the Galra sentry was, Keith would be punished if Lotor ever learned of the incident. 

So Lance said nothing, and struggled through his heat with alternating patterns of boredom and extreme arousal. 

After one such sex-fogged day, Lance was lying in bed, limp and exhausted, when Lotor entered the room. Keith immediately shot up and stiffened into a solid stance, bowing as he faced Lotor. Lotor acknowledged him with a nod and then with a wave of his hand, dismissed him. 

“Please, Lot - I mean, Master,” Lance said, hurrying to correct himself as his mate’s eyes narrowed, his voice raspy and weak, “if I might request that you come back tomorrow morning - I am too tired to properly please you right now.”

Lotor looked at him as he leaned back on his heels, eyes almost clinically surveying Lance’s position in the bed. Lance’s hair was plastered to his face with sweat, his face was pale, his skin had started to rub raw around the ankles and wrists, and his cock hung limply between his legs, the sheet settled over him like a discarded cloth. 

“Pet,” Lotor said quietly. But his voice was not soft - it was steely and cold, and Lance knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing. Lotor would not be denied. Lance’s needs didn’t matter. “Dearest pet. Do you think I care if you are too tired?”

Mutely, Lance shook his head, trying to push back the tears pricking the back of his eyes. 

“Good. Because I do not. In fact, your willfulness, your disobedience in saying so, and your current….situation,” Lotor’s eyes lingered on the chains as he said the words, “just make you more appealing to me right now. Do you know why?” he asked, looking straight into Lance’s eyes.

Lance kept his mouth clamped shut, shaking his head. If he opened his lips, he might sob. The heat heightened his emotions, and he didn’t want to send the wrong message to Lotor right now. 

“Because,” said Lotor, leaning down closer over Lance, his breath hot on Lance’s bare skin, “If you are helpless, it makes it that much easier to teach you a lesson. You are an Altean colt, Lance. Too young, too untrained. And you need to be broken.”

Lance shivered at the words, tears even more in danger of spilling over now. He didn’t dare let himself think too much about the words, or he might completely break down. 

And then Lotor pulled something out from behind him and shut the door, and Lance couldn’t keep the tears off his cheeks as fear unlike anything he had ever known before filled him enough to make him forget about the heat’s discomfort. 

**…**

It was all Keith could do to keep still in the sitting room of Lance’s suite, his fists clenched tightly, as the sound of a riding crop splitting skin came through the door beyond. Over and over and over. He could hear Lance sobbing, Lotor asking questions, each time punctuated by a harsh slap of the crop, each time making Keith flinch violently.

This is my prince, he reminded himself over and over. This is my prince. His word is law. Lance is his mate. Lance is his mate. Lance is an omega. I cannot do anything. I cannot step in. No matter how much it hurt him to listen to it, no matter how much he felt it was wrong, Keith was only a lowly sentry. Lotor was a prince, and Lotor was an alpha who was allowed to do with his mate as he wished. Saying anything otherwise would be treason.

“What are you?” Lotor’s voice was as harsh and unyielding as the sound of the leather riding crop hitting skin.

“Just an omega,” Lance sobbed, and Keith’s heart clenched. “Just an omega, a slut, who is here to serve and please you -” the riding crop sounded again. Keith’s fingernails, now claws, were digging into his skin. 

“And who do you belong to?”

“You, I belong to you, Lotor -” and Keith winced in the dreadful beat of silence that followed. 

“ _ PLEASE _ ,” came Lance’s shrieked cry of pain, begging Lotor to stop, and Keith couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped his lips. His teeth were clenched so hard he thought his jaw might break. But he could do nothing, he reminded himself. And so he stood in the corner of the room until Lotor emerged from the bedroom, and there was only dreadful silence beyond, and Lotor was wiping specks of blood off that damned riding crop, and he hardly looked in Keith’s direction as he made to leave the room.

“You may remove his shackles for the duration of his heat,” Lotor said, just as he was about to leave the room. “He won’t be any trouble from now on.”

**...**

Lance came to slowly, every part of him hurting, and he couldn’t keep the tears from seeping out of his eyes as he remembered what had happened just minutes before. The white-hot flashes of pain, the angry red welts the riding crop left in its wake, the look of fury and pleasure in Lotor’s eyes, and ultimately, the terror he had felt at the hands of his mate.  _ It isn’t supposed to be like this _ , he thought miserably, the tears trailing in searing paths down his cheeks. 

Then a hand was on his cheek, wiping the tears away, and as Lance opened his eyes he saw Keith. His stomach clenched. “Did you - ?” Lance asked, his voice barely a whisper above his ruined vocal cords. 

“I heard,” Keith said, and Lance closed his eyes briefly in shame. Keith had witnessed his punishment. He wasn’t even sure what it had been a punishment for - what had Lance done wrong? Gone exploring? Talked to Keith? Been himself? Or perhaps Lotor had just wanted to act preemptively. To break him. Lance shuddered at the remembered words, and Keith put a gentle hand under his chin.

Lance opened his eyes again to see Keith gazing at him, soft and sad. “I’m going to take care of you,” he promised, his low voice unwavering. “His Grace can be brutal, but he is exact and swift in what he deems justice. He has allowed me to unchain you.”

Lance could almost hear the words Keith wasn’t saying - an apology, maybe, or an explanation, or words of comfort. But he couldn’t say anything out loud, because that would be treason. Lance just nodded a little, as much movement as he could handle. He understood. 

Keith took a key from the pocket of his uniform and unlocked the manacles. Lance didn’t make to move - the welts on his chest screamed at him when he tried to curl into a fetal position - but waited for Keith to go back into the other room and return with a jar of salve in hand.

“I bribed the sentry on duty to get me this for you,” Keith said, opening the jar. He scooped out a large amount of a creamy white substance, and slowly, gently, began to rub it into the raised welts and broken skin on Lance’s upper arms, chest, stomach, and thighs. Lance’s breath caught as Keith worked, the salve stinging at first, knowing he was trying to be as gentle as possible. Before long, though, a numbing had taken over wherever the salve had been spread. His skin blissfully cool, his limbs free, the pain numbed and dulled, Lance curled on his side and felt sleep rising to take him. He was so tired. 

The last thing he felt before dropping off was Keith, stroking his hair. The touch was the most comforting thing Lance thought he had ever felt, and it soothed like a lullaby as Lance slipped into dreams and darkness.

**…**

The next week of Lance’s heat went easier than the first. Lotor didn’t visit again after what Lance was trying very hard to call  _ the Incident _ in his mind, avoiding thinking about it, but Keith stayed with him the whole time. As Lance was free to move around, it went easier, and when bouts of arousal struck, each time a little less intense, he was able to pleasure himself so Keith wouldn’t have to do it for him. The little bit of independence took the jagged edges off of his thoughts enough for him to get through the rest of his heat, but Lance could feel a heaviness in him that hadn’t been there before. The only good thing that came out of his heat, it seemed, was that he now could count Keith as a friend.

Keith had cared for him, rubbing the salve into his welts and cuts until they had now faded into little more than angry red marks that didn’t hurt, and they had filled the extra time Lance was confined to his rooms with conversation. Lance liked talking to Keith, he found. The sentry might be quiet and brooding at times, but he was quick to smile and he had a surprisingly dry sense of humor. 

Lance told Keith all about life on Altea, everything from the gossipy mice that roamed the castle to his mother’s death. It felt good to talk about everything, to remember what had only been two weeks ago but now felt like years. And Keith told him about how he had born on a planet called Earth, but his Galran mother had taken him back with her when she had to leave his father and he was trained to be a soldier, like his mother. Keith showed him his mother’s knife, which she had given to him when he left for Lotor’s service. It was a mysterious blade, and Lance liked the way Keith’s eyes lit up when he talked about it. 

Each night before he fell asleep, Keith would lull him into peace with soothing, repetitive touches, whether it was stroking his hair or rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of Lance’s hand. They both ignored the breaches of impropriety, because without it, Lance would wake in the middle of the night, sweating and crying out in pain, phantom welts on his body. Plus, they both seemed like they needed the casual, affectionate touch more than any other kind. 

Before long, Lance’s heat had passed enough that he was able to get out of bed, to actually bathe, to perhaps go exploring the castle a little. Keith became Lance’s personal bodyguard, so much so that Lance had a cot moved in for him to the sitting room. Other Galran sentries stood guard outside his door, but Keith became his constant companion. He was the only spot of light in Lance’s days. Because, when night fell, Lotor would come to Lance’s room after he had finished with his daily duties, and he would fuck Lance until Lance knew he would be sore the next morning. 

Lotor’s pheromones, especially the pheromones of Lance’s mated alpha, were received too well by his omega senses for Lance to not enjoy the sex. At the time, at least. After, he could never quite forget the light in Lotor’s eyes when he had punished Lance, nor the brutal way he took Lance each time, as if he enjoyed inflicting pain. 

Two weeks after the conclusion of Lance’s heat, Lotor sent the change of sentry guard with a message for Lance, and by extension, Keith.

_ I will be hosting a dinner for important diplomats and military officials in two days time. Formal. Lance, pet, please dress appropriately; you will be sitting at my side and this will be your first public appearance as my mate. Keith, my guests and I have agreed no guards at this dinner. You are to have the night off - Lance nor I will be in need of your services until the following morning. Lance, the sentry at your door will escort you at the sixth dobosh sharp. _

_ Signed, _

_ His Grace Prince Lotor _

“It’s to the point, I guess,” Lance said, frowning a little at the casual use of the word pet. It felt like a threat in this message. “At least you’ll be getting the night off.”

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “I haven’t seen my mother in a while. I might request the next day off, too, so I can go visit her.”

“That would be nice,” Lance responded automatically, forcing himself to keep his voice pleasant. Had he really gotten to the point where he couldn’t go a day without Keith? He would be fine. Keith deserved time off. But even as he recognized that, why was Lance so unhappy about it? 


	3. Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance goes to Lotor's state dinner. Things get worse from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same trigger warnings etc. as before. Just letting you guys know, this one's probably going to be the darkest chapter of the work. TW for explicit description of rape, dissociation, and abuse. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long to get up! Life gets in the way.

Lance’s breath was a thrum in his throat as he got ready in his giant bathroom. If Lotor’s note was any indication, and his absence from Lance’s bed these past two nights, it truly was an important meeting. A dinner party. Lance hadn’t been able to interact with anyone besides Keith and Lotor in so long, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be excited for an event. 

He had dressed in what seemed like the most formal clothes in his wardrobe, per Lotor’s request: a gauzy teal number, in the same style as the navy outfit he had worn that first day on this ship, but this time covering his arms, too. The arms and most of the legs were sheer, showing off his long limbs and leaving just enough to the imagination. It wasn’t quite Lance’s style, and still a little too revealing for a dinner party, in his opinion, but he hadn’t been provided with many modest options.

Lance turned to look at himself in the mirror and his breath caught in his throat. For there, on his neck, his mating bond was getting clearer. It was still fuzzy around the edges, but it was clearly two circles linked together somehow. He wondered at the symbolism, briefly, before turning his attention back to his preparations.

His body had mostly healed from  _ The Incident _ . There were no more welts and bruises, just some faint purple spots that were thankfully covered enough by the sheer fabric so as not to be visible. 

As Lance turned away from the mirror and stepped back into his bedroom, he felt a sharp pang of loneliness. Keith had already left for the night and the next day so he could go visit his mother at a Galran outpost. Lance had gotten so used to his presence over the past phoeb that not having him now felt like a physical absence, almost painful. 

But Lance squared his shoulders. He could entertain for an evening. He didn’t need Keith at all times, because Keith would not be available every moment for the rest of his life. Lance would just have to learn how to get by. 

He left his rooms, and let the guard accompany him to Lotor’s dinner.

 

When he entered the room, Lance quickly realized that he was the last to arrive. There was a reason Lotor had mentioned the time down to the dobosh in his letter - he wanted Lance to make an entrance. Which he did, if the long table’s worth of eyes swiveling towards him as he entered was any indication.

Lotor saw him and smirked. “Come here, pet,” he purred. Lance swallowed, but went to him. There were no empty seats at the table.

Every eye tracked his movements as Lotor patted his thigh. Swallowing, Lance sat down on it. It was quickly apparent this was to be his seat for the night, or there would have been an empty chair left for him.

Fine. Lance could deal with it. “Good evening,” he addressed the table, happy his voice was bright and steady. 

Lotor’s grip on Lance’s side tightened momentarily. He leaned over to whisper in Lance’s ear, his nose grazing the mating bond and making Lance shiver. “You do not speak until you are spoken to tonight,  _ pet. _ ” 

Lance swallowed back bitter disappointment and gave the barest of nods. Hungry stares followed the movement of his throat when he swallowed. 

Lotor’s grip on his side loosened but didn’t move as he turned to the table. “Honored guests of the Galra Empire, as I am sure you have noticed, I have acquired Altea’s crown jewel.”

Lance stiffened as the table laughed.

Lotor continued. “With the first omega of royal blood in millennia at my side, completely at my will as my mate, Altea has agreed to a peace treaty.” Lotor’s voice was predatory as the table once again exploded into raucous laughter. “Yes, generals. I can tell you already see. Altea is naive. Alfor has been sitting on his throne alone for too long, and the princess has no power of her own. The time to strike is now, while they have their guard down.”

“Hear, hear!” A Galran general called out, and the rest of the guests cheered. Lance felt sick to his stomach. A violation of the peace treaty? He had to warn his sister, his father, anyone in Altea - they had no idea they were going to be attacked, and Lance had been sold - for what? If there was going to be no end to the Galra Wars, what was Lance even doing here? 

He tried to push off of Lotor’s lap, but Lotor tugged him roughly back into place. “Make another move, and I’ll make an example of you,” Lotor warned, his voice low enough to make the hairs on Lance’s neck stand straight up. “You’re staying for this dinner.”

Lance bit back a retort as his bruises twinged in response. He couldn’t have a repeat. He would have to grit his teeth and bear it until the end of this dinner, and then he could figure out a way to warn Altea.

He managed to sit through the rest of the dinner, through war talk and generals getting steadily drunker, through Lotor’s clawed hands caressing and scraping down his bare side under his shirt, through the many curious and malicious stares directed his way. He wanted to jump out of his skin by the end of it. More than anything, he wished Keith were there. Even just the thought of him was comforting, now. 

Finally,  _ finally _ , Lotor raised a hand and almost instantly, a hush fell over the table. 

“It’s time,” he purred, “For my mate and I to be wed in the eyes of the Galra Empire.”

Lance’s entire body went cold. He whipped his head around to look at Lotor, and found nothing in his eyes but pure, cold malice. 

It was all happening so fast: The generals rising around them, Lotor taking him by the upper arm and dragging him into an adjacent room, saying something about important witnesses, his own rising tears -

They burst into a room where a solitary figure in a long, dark cloak was waiting. A Druid. Lance had only heard about them in stories, but he knew one when he saw one. Lotor took him toward the front, close enough to the Druid that Lance could make out cold, impassive features underneath the hood. 

Lotor spoke to the room in a grand sweeping voice. “Unfortunately,” he said, the sarcasm clear in his words, “The King and Princess of Altea could not join us here today.” 

Chuckles from around the room. “However,” Lotor drawled, with a sly look at Lance, “They will still be joining us.” 

A screen popped up in a corner of the room, and Lance held his breath, hoping against hope as it showed an outgoing call.

And then his sister and his father were there. With him, at this awful ceremony. He wanted to cry, but he gave a watery smile and waved at them. 

“Lance!” Allura cried. She sounded relatively happy, like she was trying to put on a brave front. “I can’t wait to see you in a week for the Altean ceremony!”

“Hi, Allura,” Lance breathed.  _ Hope _ . Is that what this feeling was, in his chest? Was he really going to see his family, his kingdom, his home, in just a week? 

Lotor addressed the Alteans. “It is my wish that you also witness this private ceremony before the Altean one, so you can be assured that our truce is sealed.”

“Very well,” Alfor nodded. 

“Then let us proceed,” Lotor said to the Druid. 

And Lance was so happy at the thought of seeing Altea again that he patiently waited through the ceremony, barely paying attention to the words, nodding his head and agreeing where he was supposed to, saying what the Druid prompted him to, all the while sneaking glances at the smiling faces of his family. He had never felt lighter; he could have been floating, for all he knew. He could go home. He could warn his family of what was to happen. They would protect him there, he would be  _ safe _ there.

Before he knew it, the ceremony was over. 

“Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire and Prince Lance of Altea are now pronounced wed,” the Druid proclaimed. The generals, much more polite under Altean eyes than they had been at dinner, clapped. Allura and Alfor both smiled at him, and with a soft, “I can’t wait to see you,” from Allura, Lotor ended the call. 

Despite everything Lotor had done, despite all the pain, Lance could not help but feel elated that he was one step closer to going home, even if only for a little while. The only missing puzzle piece was Keith. But would Lance have wanted him here to see this? It might have been too difficult for both of them, the pain too fresh with each other there to remind them of it. Maybe it was better he wasn’t here.

Lance pulled Lotor aside. “Your Grace...when do we start making the preparations for my visit to Altea?”

Lotor’s eyes narrowed on him for a long moment.

And then he laughed.

“You really think you’re going back to Altea?” His laughter was cruel against Lance’s ears. He could feel his face fallen in confusion, in sinking feeling.

“I...but Allura said…”

“Because that’s what Allura thinks is happening,” Lotor snorted derisively. “You’re even more foolish than I thought, little pet. So naive. Of course you’re not going back to Altea for anything after that dinner you just witnessed. You really think I would let you go back for a pampered wedding where you could spill all of my secrets to your father?”

Lance’s throat burned. He knew his cheeks and ears were red. “I won’t tell them,” he pleaded. He was ashamed to beg, especially with all the eyes on them, but he needed this. He  _ needed _ to go back to Altea. “If I could just see them one more time, I  _ promise _ I’d be good! I wouldn’t tell them anything, I promise -” Tears threatened to spill over, and Lotor grabbed his chin.

“Your promises mean nothing,” Lotor hissed. “You’re Altean. You can’t be trusted. And you are never leaving this ship again.”

The words sounded like the slam of a prison door. 

Lance knew his breaths were coming in short gasps, felt like water was coming up around his ears, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.  _ No no nononononono. _ This couldn’t be happening. 

Someone in the crowd of generals yelled, “Time for the Bedding!” Raucous, drunken cheers.

“The Bedding?” Lance whispered. He felt like he was going to pass out.

Lotor smiled. “An ancient tradition, from when omegas were still common. And since we have one right now, well...who am I to deny my generals? I need their support. And they want to ensure the production of an heir.”

“Please no,” Lance whispered, pressing his eyes closed as a few hot tears slipped out.

Lotor’s voice hardened. “It’s not your choice to make.”

And then there was a hot pulse of the mating bond. Lance could almost feel the command snap from Lotor’s body to his, and suddenly Lance felt almost like he had during his heat - awash with arousal, wave after sudden wave of it hitting him. His flimsy clothing did little to hide the sudden and abrupt stiffening of his cock, and the generals suddenly stood up straight as they scented the air. They could smell what Lotor was making him feel. The scent of an omega, ready to be taken. 

Lance tried to fight it but he just shuddered with the heat curling low in his belly and slumped against Lotor, who easily picked him up. He was powerless against the mating bond, against whatever Lotor sent through it. “Looks like my mate is ready for the Bedding, as well.” The generals all cheered, and then they were moving.

Lotor’s grip on him was firm enough that Lance couldn’t move, couldn’t get any friction against his stiff, throbbing cock as they traversed the ship, the generals laughing crudely behind them. He gave a pitiful moan into Lotor’s chest.

“We’re close, pet,” Lotor said, his voice a sensual caress against Lance’s fevered thoughts. 

They entered a room Lance had never been in before, richly decorated and huge. They must have been Lotor’s own chambers. He barely heard Lotor addressing the generals, saying, “This is the Bedding, an ancient tradition. You may approach me with private offers later, but if you attempt to interfere with this ceremony, I will kill you.”

The generals murmured assent, practically salivating at the scent Lance was putting off, not seeming bothered by Lotor’s violent words. Lance felt like he was in a haze, barely paying attention to what was being said around him. All he could focus on was Lotor, the mating bond, the  _ need- _

They entered Lotor’s bedroom, in which a huge, four-postered bed dominated. Lotor began shedding his clothes until he was finally naked, his cock standing stiff and proud against his stomach. He shredded a claw down the front of Lance’s outfit, the one he had picked out for the dinner himself, until Lance was standing in front of him naked. The generals gathered around the sides of the bed, jostling each other for a better view, but Lance couldn’t even particularly bring himself to care as he whimpered and went to Lotor. 

Lance desperately rubbed himself against Lotor’s thigh for a brief, sweet moment before Lotor was hoisting him up and setting him on the bed. Lotor settled over him and ran a finger down below Lance’s cock. “Wet already, pet?” He murmured appreciatively, and the nostrils of several generals flared. 

Lance whimpered. “Please, L -” he remembered himself at the last minute, “Master, please.” 

Lotor nodded in approval, and then sheathed himself in Lance. Lance cried out, his back arching with the sensation of Lotor completely filling him with no preparation. Lotor’s hips snapped back and then in, over and over, and Lance couldn’t form coherent words as he moaned. Lotor grabbed his thighs and spread them wider so he drove in at a deeper angle, slamming in to the hilt, hitting Lance’s prostate, and Lance’s vision whitened and blurred at the edges with the mix of pain and pleasure.

The generals around them faded as Lance lost himself in the rhythm of Lotor’s cock pounding into him, fucking him into the canopied bed without mercy. He whimpered as Lotor dove in particularly savagely, and his hand drifted toward his own cock, aching for any release - 

But he should have known, Lotor wouldn’t have allowed it, and Lance’s wrists were pinned above his head and Lotor dragged in and out of him. “Pet,” he growled. It was a warning to not do it again, but Lance could hardly pay attention as he bucked his hips against Lotor, craving a deeper fit,  _ anything _ that would make the pulsing arousal go away.

Lotor sped up to a near unbearable speed and Lance’s moans stuttered in time until he could feel the knot growing inside of him, and Lotor gave one last savage thrust in before they were well and truly stuck, and Lance came with a shout, completely untouched. Lotor’s knot pulsing inside of him, making him shiver with oversensitivity, was the only warning before his seed burst inside of Lance in a sudden wash of heat. Lotor bit down on the point of the mating bond as he continued to release his cum into Lance, and Lance couldn’t help the high pitched whine that came with being full to bursting and the sudden pain. This was more cum than any Lotor had left in him before, and the knot was still stuck in him as it continued to pour into him, so much he thought he might throw it up. 

Finally, Lance sensed a tapering off in the seed coming into him, but Lotor’s knot showed no sign of decreasing in size. It was sealing the cum inside of him.  _ Ensuring an heir _ , Lance’s exhausted mind provided. He was so drained, so tired and sad now that the arousal was finished coursing through him, that the thought couldn’t even bother him that much.

He couldn’t help a low moan as Lotor finally slipped back down to his normal size and withdrew from Lance with a slippery noise. He could feel a little bit of the seed trickling out of him, but he knew that most of it was far too deep inside him to leave. He felt sick. 

“The Bedding is complete,” Lotor announced, and with a hot wash of shame Lance realized all the generals were standing at attention around the bed, many of them stiff in their pants, their pupils blown wide with lust. “An heir is all but guaranteed. If you have...offers, please meet with me privately in the next thirty dobosh.”

Lotor drew a robe around himself, despite showing no shame that the generals had seen him naked. He knew he exuded power; that he was clearly their ruler in every way. Almost as an afterthought,he gave Lance a robe. “Pet, the sentry outside will escort you to your rooms.” He was perfunctory, but his eyes glittered with another meaning.  _ You’re mine, and you’re not leaving. _

Lance just wanted to curl up and go to sleep and pretend this night had never happened. He felt so foolish. All the hope from earlier had completely dissipated, and now he just felt used. Dirty.

The sentry led him to his rooms. This space, which he had spent so much time in over the past phoeb, now felt empty and tainted by Lotor’s presence. Lance slowly walked into the bathroom and absently picked up a washcloth. As he methodically wiped himself down, his eyes carefully blank to avoid the new bruises blooming on his wrists and hipbones, his loneliness was almost palpable. Eventually, as he rinsed the cloth in the sink, his eyes drifted up toward the mirror. 

His breath caught. The mating link was now fully visible against his pulse point. His stomach clenched as he took the symbol in - two fully linked circlets, taut against each other. Chains. 

Shackles.

And at last, Lance allowed himself to cry. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was before his tired body dragged him to bed, but as he fell in, the heavy drag on his eyelids was almost immediate. He faded into sleep thinking of Keith.

 

The room felt empty.

It was quiet and empty and lonely and sad without Keith. His confidant, his friend: Keith was the only person he could talk to, and he wasn’t here as Lance spiraled deeper into his thoughts. He hadn’t moved since he had woken up, just sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees and staring blankly at the wall.

He was married to Lotor.

Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire, who wanted to attack his family and kingdom without cause, despite everything Lance had sacrificed. The chained mark on his neck tingled periodically, just enough that he couldn’t forget they were there. Was he going to spend his life on this ship? Enslaved, chained to a bed during his heats, miserable?

His eyes burned but he had nothing left to cry. He felt washed out and drained. He had been staring listlessly at the wall for almost half a day when he heard voices outside his door.

Whatever guard was on duty, questioning; two other voice, low and twining. A brief argument between them. Lance wasn’t sure how long a silence had fallen before he heard another voice join them.

Lotor. Lance strained his ears to hear better, sitting up fully for the first time that day. 

“Let them in, Arok. We have come to an arrangement. After fifteen minutes, if they remain, please remove them and show them back to their rooms. If this proves difficult, come get me.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the guard - Arok - said in response. 

And then the sound of the door to his suite opening.

Through the bedroom door Lance hadn’t bothered to close the night before, Lance could see two of the generals from the dinner the previous night step into his rooms. They scanned the rooms with the practice of people who were used to searching for enemies before their eyes fell on Lance and they sprouted two matching smiles. 

A low pulse of fear sparked through Lance, and he couldn’t do anything but sit rooted to the spot as they strode toward him. His eyes searched desperately past them towards the still-open door to his suite, falling in Lotor. His gaze was expressionless, but he spoke, knowing Lance was listening. 

“Use him as you may. But if you attempt to interfere with the production of  _ my _ heir, consider your lives forfeit.”

And he turned and left, shutting the door to the suite behind him. Leaving Lance alone with the two generals.

They advanced through his bedroom door, and Lance scrambled off of the bed, panic now beating hard in his throat. His thoughts scattered, his only instincts screaming to  _ run-  _

But there was nowhere to go. The generals blocked the only exit. And with sick dread, Lance knew there was nothing he could do. Not when Lotor had decreed it, not when the generals were so much bigger, stronger, and trained than Lance. If he fought back, not only would they hurt him, but Lotor probably would too. 

Deep-seated fear, fear he hadn't felt since the last time Lotor punished him, rooted him to the spot where he stood beside his bed. The taller of the two generals turned to the other with a predatory grin. “What do you say we enjoy what we paid for?”

The other grinned in response, his eyes lidded and lustful as he trained a sneer on Lance. “We’ll only be able to spread word of Lotor’s acclaimed omega to the rest of the universe if we try him out first. We wouldn’t want to disappoint the Prince, would we?”

The general who had spoken first walked around the bed to Lance and lifted his chin up with a single claw. Lance was trembling. “Of course we don’t. Look at him, he’s terrified.”

“As he should be.”

“We’re going to use you,” the general whispered in Lance’s ear, his breath hot and heavy against his shaking head. “Prince’s orders.”

Lance tried to dissociate as they shredded claws through the thin undergarments he had on. He tried to take his thoughts far away as their rough hands shoved him into the bed and touched parts of him that were the source of so much pain and pleasure. Now both were distant as he drifted away.

He couldn’t help thinking of Altea as a bright burst of pain filled him, the taller general fucking into him with as much force as Lotor often did. He couldn’t help thinking of the juniberry fields and the endless blue skies and the home he loved as the other general grabbed a fistful of his hair and began to use his mouth, stretching his jaw wide.

Anything to escape this nightmare.

Lance knew his body was limp, that he wasn’t kicking and screaming and protesting. But he was just so tired. Tired of living as an omega, tired of living as a prisoner, tired of being used. Even as the generals grunted to each other, as he felt weights lift off and leave him and switch places and settle back onto him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because if he cared, then he would be thinking again, be in the moment again, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shattering.

A particularly sharp needle of pain shot through Lance as the two generals increased their pace, but he barely recognized it. He barely heard the distant sounds of an altercation in the hallway, the sick thud of flesh hitting stone and metal. He was so far gone into Altea, into happiness and sunshine, that he didn’t realize the pain had stopped until several moments later. He didn’t notice the brief shouts and  _ shink _ of metal against skin. 

What he did finally notice, though, was violet-blue eyes, rippling with stormclouds and pain and fury.

What he noticed was being lifted gently into the air. What he noticed was a soft cloak draping around his shoulders. What he noticed was being cradled in someone’s arms and moving, moving through his rooms.

He didn’t look at the bodies on the way out.

All he could see was Keith.

Here to rescue him, at last.


End file.
